Monday, April 18, 2011

A new contract with TWRP!

Can a Christmas wish change Alice’s life? Her agent’s threatening to quit because Alice can’t finish the illustrations for a children’s book. When Luke, a Watcher Angel, crash lands his Harley on her roof, he’s reluctant to take on his new assignment, and to return to earth at Christmas. It reminds him his fiance broke his heart one Christmas Eve, and ruined the holiday for him. Luke brings Alice more than inspiration. He reawakens Alice’s heart. Now she has to convince him he’s her greatest wish. With a little Christmas magic, she wishes he’ll break the Ground Rules and stay.

And an unofficial excerpt:

Rankled by her doubt, Luke heaved a sharp breath. “You don’t believe me? Do you really need the flash? The special effects?” He hadn’t yet mastered those.

Her frustration apparently equaled his. “You don’t look like… you look more like a rock star.”

“You were expecting Clarence from It’s A Wonderful Life? I don’t go in for theatrics. And don’t get any ideas about jumping into a freezing river. I don’t do cold water rescues either. Or rescues in general.” Though Peter would love the reenactment.

Sarcasm tainted her tone. “That’s not helpful, is it?”

“You’re the one who called. And at the last minute, mind you. Most people put their requests in much earlier.” If she had, Peter would undoubtedly have sent someone else, someone more qualified. Though he had to admit, she was quite adorable, especially when angry.

“I see. If I wanted the best, I should have asked earlier?” She huffed.

Nudging the carpet with her toes, she took an unusual interest in the floor. Stepping back, triumph lit her glare. “How, exactly, did I ask?”

Heaving a sigh, he straightened to a stand. “If we must go through this futile exercise… you stood by the tree.” To appease her, he traveled in a whoosh through a tunnel of prismatic light to stand beside it. “Here. You said you couldn’t take one more night alone, too much work, yadda yadda yadda.”

“Save the sarcasm. It’s not very angelic.”

The label sounded preposterous, he had to admit, especially applied to him. “Have I left anything out?”

She pouted. “Yes. Your sensitivity.”

“Eons ago, babycakes.” He wouldn’t tell her his fiancé had murdered it.